Playtime
by MinervaDeannaBond
Summary: After Voldemort's defeat, Harry takes his broomstick out for a ride - only, to his surprise, to have Professor McGonagall join him for some fun and games!


I've gotta say it: I saw _The Deathly Hallows Part 2 _four times. And I loved it! My only problem was that they didn't include everyone celebrating Voldemort's defeat. I was looking forward to everyone hugging Harry, and I really wanted to see him hug McGonagall, because I think they've always had a special relationship - one that evolved from student/teacher into true friends. So this is a "deleted chapter" from _The Deathly Hallows, _in which Harry and McGonagall spend some time together, and Harry learns that his professor isn't really as strict as he thought - matter of fact, she's quite a pistol! Enjoy!

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><p>A month after Voldemort had been defeated, Hogwarts was finally beginning to feel like home again to Harry Potter. The massive damage done to the castle in the battle was well on its way to being repaired, thanks to the skills of a team of handiwizards dispatched by newly instated Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt. The same, unfortunately, could not be said for the families of those lost in the war. But despite the enormous loss of so many friends, Harry could still feel their presence within the castle walls. With each new brick, new glass window, new addition to the repairs came a piece of each person's soul: Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore… even Severus Snape. They would forever be a part of Hogwarts, as well as a part of Harry's life. And now, as he ate breakfast in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione, he raised his goblet of pumpkin juice to them. <em>Here's to you – all of you. Thank you for giving your lives for us… and thank you for being part of my life.<em>

Harry set his goblet back down and sighed, a peculiar feeling arising within him. _It's odd. I don't feel sad, but I feel like there's something missing in me… something I haven't done in a long time. I need to do something fun; take my mind off the battle for a while. _He glanced over at Hermione, who was reading the morning _Daily Prophet _(which was finally reporting the truth). On the back page, which was facing him, Harry noticed an ad for Bludgers and Broomsticks, the Quidditch shop in Hogsmeade… and the missing part of him hit him like a flying Bludger.

"Hey, Ron," Harry said, nudging his best friend, "I know the stadium's destroyed, but d'you want to go out on the grounds and play some one-on-one Quidditch with me? I'm dying to get back on my broomstick again."

Ron swallowed a mouthful of sausage and chased it down with some pumpkin juice before answering. "Oh, sorry, Harry. Wish I could, but… Hermione and I are spending the day in Hogsmeade today."

"Ronald is out of Dungbombs and needs to refill his secret stash. I'm just going along because I'm looking for a new book," Hermione said loftily, although she wasn't fooling Harry, who caught her slight flush and the sparkle in her eyes when Ron mentioned their date.

Harry chuckled. "It's all right. You guys have fun; I'll get a little flying in while you're gone."

"You deserve to have some fun," Hermione said, touching him gently on the shoulder. "You've been through so much, Harry. You need a little happiness." She hugged him. "Your father would've been overjoyed to know you were happiest playing Quidditch."

Harry returned her smile, feeling grateful for the pep talk. "Thanks, Hermione. I'll see you guys in the common room tonight," he called over his shoulder as he exited the Great Hall.

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><p>The Quidditch field was still under heavy reconstruction, so Harry took his Firebolt out to the lawn outside the stadium, along with a Golden Snitch in his pocket. With his broom still in hand, he closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air, the smell of new grass… the smell of new hope blowing in on the spring breeze. He opened his eyes and drank in his surroundings, finding a veritable rainbow before him: blue skies, green grass and trees, white clouds, brilliant yellow sunshine, and the colors of the four Hogwarts houses slowly being restored to their former glory on the stadium. <em>A rainbow is a sign of promise… the promise of new beginnings, of new life. I can't wait to live the rest of mine – starting right now.<em>

Straddling his Firebolt, Harry kicked off from the ground and felt the wind whip through his hair, welcoming him like an old friend. This was what he'd been missing – the feeling of sheer exhilaration and joy, of flying off and leaving your cares behind, if only for a little while. With the old elation rising within him, Harry let out a whoop and released his Snitch, which darted off in the direction of the lake. Harry sped after it and snatched it out of the air, doing the same thing a few more times before performing a few loop-de-loops to let his feelings out.

On his last loop, he heard applause coming from the ground below. Harry looked down and flew back to earth, landing a few feet in front of a familiar figure in robes of emerald green.

"Professor!" Harry greeted his Head of House, surprised but pleased to see her. "I didn't expect to see you out here."

"Nor did I expect to see you back on a broomstick quite so soon, Potter," she said, a smile playing about her lips. "But I suppose I should have known better. You have your father's blood in you – he couldn't stay off the Quidditch field for more than five minutes."

Harry couldn't help smiling at her. Long before the battle, he'd come to see his Transfiguration professor in a new light – not merely as a teacher, but as a friend. And she'd been so happy lately, he found it hard to believe he'd ever found her tight-lipped. Now, Minerva McGonagall's face was alight with happiness and her bright blue eyes were sparkling with… wait a minute, was that mischief? Was that even possible? "Professor… did you come out here to watch?"

"Watch?" Professor McGonagall's eyes were really twinkling now. "Potter, I came out here to join you – if you don't mind, of course."

"What?" Harry chuckled, hardly daring to believe his ears. He'd known that she loved to watch the Quidditch matches at Hogwarts, but the thought of Minerva McGonagall on a broomstick was just a little funny.

"Don't laugh, Potter," Professor McGonagall said, some of the old steel returning to her voice. "Believe it or not, I have done quite a lot of flying in my time."

"But how could you have unless –" Harry broke off as realization smacked him upside the head and he looked at Professor McGonagall with astonished eyes. "No way. You were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

Professor McGonagall allowed herself a smile. "Yes, I was," she said fondly. "I was a Chaser – and I became Captain in my fifth year."

"Amazing," Harry said, still bowled over. "I would've loved to see you play."

The mischievous twinkle returned to Professor McGonagall's eyes. "You might just get a chance to, Potter, if you'll play me in a one-on-one match."

"Seriously? Excellent!" Harry shifted his Firebolt from his right hand to his left and grinned at his teacher. "What did you have in mind?"

Professor McGonagall called the shots without missing a beat. "Those three trees over there," she said, pointing to three tall oaks at the other side of the lawn. "The first one to score five goals in them wins."

"You're on," Harry said, "But first, we need to get you a broomstick and the Quaffle. Any particular broom you want?"

"Either a Comet or a Cleansweep," Professor McGonagall replied. "The last time I rode a Shooting Star, the blasted thing threw me through one of the goal posts."

Harry laughed. "All right, Professor. I'll be right back." He mounted his Firebolt and took off for the broom shed. Three minutes later, he returned with the Quaffle under one arm and, lo and behold, a Nimbus Two Thousand and One clutched in his other hand.

"Potter, where did you get that?" Professor McGonagall asked as Harry came in for a landing. "I thought only the Slytherins flew those."

"They did, but no one's flying this one right now. Don't worry, Professor; I disinfected it. It won't bite you," Harry said with a grin, holding the broomstick out.

"As your teacher, I can't condone an insult. But as your friend, I say… right on." She threw Harry a mock-dirty look as he laughed out loud. "Oh, shut up, boy, and give me that broomstick!"

Harry waited until Professor McGonagall had mounted her broom before kicking off into the air and soaring toward the trees with the Quaffle under his arm. He had barely flown half the distance when the Quaffle popped out of his grip and into the arms of an emerald blur shooting past him. _She's good, _Harry thought, hearing Professor McGonagall's euphoric laughter ahead of him. _Very good. _Not one to give up easily, he shot after his teacher until he was within arm's reach of her. Forming his left hand into a fist, he aimed for the Quaffle and punched it out of Professor McGonagall's grip, but he didn't hold on to it for long before she thrust a foot upward, kicked the ball out of his arms, took possession once more and scored the first goal of the game.

Professor McGonagall flashed him a triumphant smile. "I told you I hadn't lost my touch."

Harry threw a wicked grin right back at her. "No, but you're about to lose the Quaffle!" he cried, shooting toward her like a bullet.

The game went on for many turns, with plenty of snatching, dodging, fancy moves, and loop-de-loops peppered with an exchange of friendly insults. And what impressed Harry the most was not the fact that Professor McGonagall was beating him four to one, but her skill, her competitiveness… and her sheer joy at playing a game she loved. _All the hallmarks of a great Quidditch player, _he thought. _You have to play it like you love it, and she does love it. I'd love to know more about her life on the Quidditch team, but right now, I've got a game to play!_

Ten minutes later, it was all over. Harry, his own competitive spirit roused, had managed to score three more goals, bringing the score up to a tie, but Professor McGonagall wasn't about to let him get away with it. Like a true Chaser, she waited until he was preparing to fly off toward the trees and then took off after him. As soon as she tackled Harry like an American quarterback, snatched the Quaffle from him, and scored the final goal, Harry knew he'd been beaten – but he wasn't disappointed. _I'm a Seeker, not a Chaser. And I'm honored to lose to a friend._

"Congratulations, Professor," Harry said graciously as they dismounted from their brooms. "You played an amazing game."

"So did you, Potter," Professor McGonagall replied, shaking the hand he offered. "You put up a great fight, although I wouldn't expect any less from you."

"Thanks." The game might have been over, but Harry had another idea. "Professor, are you up for a challenge?"

"A Gryffindor never backs down from a challenge. It's foolhardy, but also one of our greatest strengths. Why, Potter; what did you have in mind?"

"A race, from here, over the lake, across the grounds, and back here to this spot. Loser buys lunch, so to speak. What do you say, Professor?"

"I say… catch me if you can, Potter!" Professor McGonagall cried, mounting her broom and zooming off in the direction of the lake.

"No fair!" Harry laughed in spite of himself. "You're going to regret that!" he yelled, taking off after Professor McGonagall until he caught up with her over the lake, the two of them throwing water up behind them in a glorious spray. On and on they flew, from the sparkling waters of the lake to the many turrets of Hogwarts, where they soared in between the towers – and caused many of the students to wonder if they were seeing things. There went Harry Potter, but was that Professor McGonagall behind him – on a broomstick? It couldn't be!

Ron and Hermione wondered the same thing when they were walking back from Hogsmeade. Ron glanced upward at the sky and nearly dropped his bag of Dungbombs at the sight he beheld. "Hermione… look up there and tell me if you see what I see."

Hermione looked up from her new copy of _The Way to a Wizard's Heart _and turned her eyes heavenward. "Merlin's pants!" she gasped, the book falling to the ground.

"Oh yeah. You definitely see what I see," Ron said dryly, shaking his head in astonishment. "McGonagall on a broomstick."

Hermione stared up at the sky in shock. "I never would've thought it. Professor McGonagall flying on a broomstick. And – wait a minute, is that Harry who just flew past her?"

Ron followed her finger to another flying form overhead. "It is! If I didn't know better… bloody hell, they're racing! Harry and McGonagall are having a broomstick race! What's next, the Slytherins singing a chorus of 'All Things Bright and Beautiful'? Flying pigs?"

"No, but I did hear Pansy Parkinson singing 'Barbie Girl' in the corridor yesterday, so I guess this means you can be on the lookout for low-flying pigs," Hermione said, while Ron roared with laughter.

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><p>"Lee Jordan was a lot of things, but he had one thing right: you have to get up early to beat a Firebolt."<p>

It was Harry's turn to smile this time. True, Professor McGonagall had lost the race, but the loss hadn't dampened her spirits any. As per their wager, she had procured a basket of sandwiches and pumpkin juice from the Hogwarts kitchens, and now she and Harry were having a splendid picnic on the lawn, in the shade of some nearby spruces. While Harry ate his lunch, he listened to Professor McGonagall's stories about her Quidditch career in school, including her captaining the Gryffindor team to three consecutive Cup victories. Each match was fun to hear about, but when she got to the match in her seventh year, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, he leaned forward, eager to hear every gory detail.

"Juliana Knight had just caught the Snitch and the crowd was going mad. I dismounted from my broom and was about to join the rest of the team to celebrate when Gaius Stroud, the Slytherin captain, landed in front of me and started shouting at me. He was so furious that Slytherin had lost that he slapped me, right in front of the whole school."

"He didn't!" Harry said, outraged that anybody could hit a woman, much less Minerva McGonagall. "Professor McGonagall, you're a lady. He had no right to hit you."

Professor McGonagall flushed slightly at Harry's compliment. "I'm certainly glad to see that chivalry isn't dead to you, Potter. But even though I am a lady, I firmly believe that if you are hit first, you have the right to hit back – with a wand or a fist."

Catching her implication, Harry burst out laughing. "You actually got into a fistfight with him?"

"No, but I did plant my boot where it…" Here Professor McGonagall discreetly cleared her throat, "Counted. He certainly became a fine tenor in the Hogwarts choir after that."

Harry winced, but he had to admire his teacher's audacity. "Sounds like you were quite a pistol, Professor."

"Were? Potter, just because I'm strict as a professor doesn't mean I've lost my spirit."

"I never doubted that for a second," Harry said warmly, giving his teacher an admiring smile. "Even when you were in St. Mungo's three years ago, I knew it would take a lot more than four Stunning Spells to break your spirit. You've always been there for me. You got me on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you bought me my first broomstick… you promised to help me become an Auror, and you stood beside me, Ron, and Hermione in the battle against Voldemort. I don't know how I can possibly thank you for everything you've done for me."

Professor McGonagall looked as though she might cry. "Well…" she said, a lump just barely catching in her throat, "Making me feel seventeen again was a start."

Harry chuckled. "Anytime, Professor."

"Harry."

Harry looked back up at her, surprised to be addressed by his first name and doubly surprised at what she said next. "You still have one more year of school to complete, and therefore I am still your professor, but… I am also your friend. If you like, you may call me Minerva."

_Well, this is a day of surprises, _Harry thought. First Professor McGonagall joined him for a game of one-on-one Quidditch and beat him, then she raced him all around the Hogwarts grounds, and now she was telling him they could be on a first-name basis with each other? _I guess we really are friends now… but I need one more thing. _"I will, but I need something from you first."

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes, but their blue depths still sparkled with amusement. "And what might that be?"

Harry smiled. "What do all friends give each other?" He held out his arms and waited for her reaction.

"Oh, you!" Professor McGonagall laughed as she embraced Harry, wrapping him in her arms and hugging him tight. "You are remarkable, Harry Potter."

"So are you… Minerva," Harry said as they hugged, teacher and student now the best of friends.

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><p>Sweet, huh? A note on the setting and time: I wasn't sure what season it was when Harry defeated Voldemort, but when I read the book for the first time, I envisioned it as spring, so that's what I made it in this story. Reviews are welcome. :D<p> 


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